


Chinks in the armor

by Silverfoxglove



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Pining, Planet Lothal (Star Wars), Pre-Relationship, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29203797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfoxglove/pseuds/Silverfoxglove
Summary: A confused Agent Kallus is having second thoughts about the Empire. Story occurs in the period of time between Bahryn and the first Fulcrum broadcast.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 15
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan-fic. I couldn't shake the sense of internal turmoil that Kallus must have been feeling in the time between his encounter with Zeb on Bahryn, and his eventual defection to the rebels... so I wrote it down.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it begins to dawn on Agent Kallus, that something isn’t right.

If he was being honest, every day was becoming more and more difficult. 

Agent Alexandr Kallus smoothed his fine blonde hair back and straightened his ISB uniform into place as he always did just before leaving for his watch. The uniform that used to represent everything he was proud to stand for now felt like a scratchy, tight noose around his neck. It used to be easy to get dressed for work.... Before all that rebel idealism started to _make sense._ Maybe he had been diluting himself, turning a blind eye when it was convenient to ignore injustices that were being carried out in the name of the Empire. He didn’t know anymore what he believed. The only thing he knew at the moment was that if he didn’t pull it together he would be late for his watch. He tried for an imperious stare down with his own reflection... and somehow failed. The small mirror in the impersonal refresher room only reflected a slightly sad and tired man. 

Turning off the light and exiting his cabin, he took a last deep breath to centre himself and silently repeated his mantra. Intelligent. Powerful. Dominant. Untouchable. He wore this mantra like he wore his uniform. It was always there, reminding him that the strong deserve to survive. Regal bearing, perfect posture, competent (if rigid) demeanor: they were all layers of the carefully constructed armor that was Imperial Security Bureau Agent Alexandr Kallus.

He stepped out and strode purposefully down the hallways towards the bridge of _The Lawbringer_ , exuding professional competence. 

He made his way to his command station and settled into routine operations with cool efficiency. The other officers on the bridge nodded their respects to him in a perfunctory way, and he returned the courtesy before shutting them out to continue his tasks. Agent Alexandr Kallus: _Intelligent. Powerful. Dominant. Untouchable._

Alone. 

The poisonous thoughts were coming more and more often as the weeks passed by… ever since that misadventure on the Geonosian ice-moon, Bahryn. Now Agent Kallus would sometimes find his mind wandering off while he was in the middle of routine tasks, thinking about a set of bright green eyes and the uncultured, rough voice of a certain male Lasat. He would remember snippets of their conversation while trapped together on that frozen unforgiving moon. In the 20 odd hours he had been trapped together with Garazeb Orrelios… something had happened to him. Something that was continuing to happen no matter how hard he threw himself back into his work. 

Why? What had happened and why now? And how would he bring these new feelings back under control? How would he become the master of himself again? There was always a solution to any set of problems. He would just need to find out what he must do, and then he would be himself again.

****

Lying in his bunk in his solitary cabin after his watch had ended, he mulled over the problem. Unconsciously, he began reaching for his gently glowing chunk of meteorite.

_No, leave it alone. That's where the problems began in the first place, you sentimental fool._ He retracted his hand, sliding it to rest under his head instead as he stared absently at the ceiling. 

Any time he had _wanted_ something in his life, he had worked towards it with singular focus until whatever it was became his. His mother had taught him that skill. She had recognized a solem cleverness in her son and had made sure that all his efforts would lead him to a military career. Where he was from, a good military career was just about the best a person could aim for. His family had always leaned closer towards poverty than stability thanks to the unstable government on Coruscant. Although he was an only child of two working parents, money was always tight, and it felt as though his parents were always working twice as hard for half the reward. Thanks to his mother’s diligent savings and her efforts to pull the right strings, his parents had managed to save enough for Alexandr to enroll in the Coruscant Military Academy. He didn’t waste their gift - Alexandr had graduated top of his class and looked forward to a long and promising career. However not long after he had been stationed on his first star ship, his mother unexpectedly passed away. Life could be cruel and short in the lower levels of Coruscant. Jobs weren’t always easy to find and one took the best of what was offered. Often these jobs were fraught with implied risks - exposure to hazardous materials, dangerous work environments or just plain dangerous locations. It was the prolonged exposure to dangerous substances that wrote the final chapters of his mothers life. 

The years following her death had been difficult. His father, who had never made anything of himself, began a spiral into depression and alcoholism after his wife had passed. He lost his meagre job and depended solely on Alexandr’s credits that were deposited in his account every month. As the sole provider for his small family, failure wasn’t an option. He made enough money to support his father and put away a little bit for himself, but as his father’s destructive habits degenerated further into reckless gambling, Alexandr never seemed to have enough left for his own future. Over the years he continued to endure the cycles of emotional abuse and guilt as he tirelessly rose through the ranks. Then after a fateful inciting incident with his father, Alexandr had finally had enough. It had been a relief and a revelation when he severed the ties to his only remaining family member. He realized that he didn’t need anyone else in his life. In fact, being close to anyone only drained personal resources. Having control - being at the top of the food chain was the only real way to live. Anything or anyone that jeopardized that control should be set aside. Nothing can be taken away from you when you have the power. Anything he didn’t have, he could find a way to acquire for himself. He worked very hard to get to this place. He had proven to the Empire that he deserved greatness. Only the strongest made it to the top. 

So, why was this no longer enough? 

Maybe there was a simple solution to his restless discontent. When was the last time he had been laid? Shortly before the mission to Geonosis? Yes that was it. Perhaps this hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach was just a sign that he needed to unwind a bit. Reset the priorities so he could get back to his life again. 

He knew just the person he needed to see. Pulling himself up out of the bunk he made his way down to the barracks. 

****

Captain Kase Wilwerd was by no means Agent Alexandr Kallus’ boyfriend. But they did have a gentlemen's agreement that served them both well. He wasn’t the first such man to find himself in this situation, nor was he likely to be the last. Afterall, everyone had physical needs - needs that if ignored for too long started to compromise one's performance. 

After the Academy - once Kallus had put some distance between Coruscant and himself - he had begun a phase of physical experimentation. His parents never did approve of his interest in partners that would not produce any offspring. Aside from his disinterest in bringing another life into being only to live out their lives in the slums of Coruscant, he also was not overly interested in women at all. Before Captain Wilwerd there had been a young trooper named Jurd Pelee. It hadn’t taken Kallus long to “recruit” the young trooper to his bed. Jurd had been eager to please, so willing to make himself available to the Agent soon enough he was bored of the man, but complacent enough in the arrangement that he kept the visitations going for longer than he should have. Eventually Jurd was reassigned to another starship, bringing an abrupt end to their daliences. 

There had never been anything particularly wrong with Jurd Pelee. He was attractive in a way that leaned more towards cute than handsome. His straight auburn hair and freckled complexion were striking when paired with his jade green eyes. He was all soft angles. Round face, big round eyes, small pink mouth. Strong, stocky body. A fun little plaything. Jurd had tried to make more of their arrangement, but Kallus always shrugged off his advances. Agent Kallus’ power had been attractive to the young man. Perhaps Jurd thought he could take some of that power for himself. Oh, the sex was always fun and it scratched the itch… but it was never anything more than that for Kallus. He wasn’t looking for anything deeper than a convenient fuck. After all, why would he need a companion in his life? His life was already perfect, no need to complicate things with more variables. Boyfriends, companions, _husbands._ Nothing but constant compromises. He had no reservations when it came time to sign off on the transfer papers for Trooper Pelee’s reassignment. 

Captain Wilwerd was a very different playmate in all ways. They had met by chance down in the ship’s gym. Both men had joined a sparring ladder. The object was to place combatants of equal mastery together in order to hone their weapon skills. As a combatant improved they moved further up the ladder to keep them sparring with people that would challenge their abilities. When Kallus had joined the sparring group he had quickly been placed at the top, with a small, select group of other men who were formidable fighters in their own right. When Kase Wilwerd first entered the workout room and strode lazily over to the weapons rack, Kallus felt his mouth go dry. The man was gorgeous. Tall - taller than himself… and broad through the shoulders and chest - slender at the waist. Thick, muscular thighs and shapely calves. He darkly complected skin shone gold in the bright gym lights. Alexandr Kallus should have been sizing the Captain up for battle, but he couldn’t stop his mind from sizing him up for … well... something else. What could a man like that do with such big hands...

The captain had taken up his staff and sauntered confidently to the center of the sparring mat and awaited his opponent. Kallus could feel the larger man’s dark brown eyes on his body, assessing him, tracking his movements. Kallus pulled himself together and got into position, staring his opponent down with his practiced “imperious glare”. The stare-off continued until the corner of Kase’s mouth turned up in the barest of smiles. He lifted his chin slightly. 

They both took a formal bow and began. 

They started slow, circling each other, testing each other. Circling, trying to find cracks in the other’s defences - They quickly came to realize that they were well matched. Kallus soon found himself with a fierce grin across his face as he blocked, dodged and attacked the great man. Kase was skilled, to be sure, but he wasn’t as nimble as Kallus. The two men circled each other silently, the only sound in the room being the labored breaths and the sharp whacks and cracks of the staffs.

When Kase finally struck Kallus he staggered and nearly went down. The man was so _powerful!_ Anytime Kase got a hit on the relatively smaller man his mouth turned up in the small grin, and Kallus grinned back. He couldn’t help it. This sparring match was _interesting._ Much better than the opponents that he had beat in order to get to this wrung of the ladder. Kase was very good. _But I am better._ The match went on and on, each man scoring points on the other until they were both breathless and sweating. Finally, Kallus got the opening he needed and with all the energy he had left, he dropped Captain Wilwerd to the mat, holding the staff to his throat. The two men locked eyes, chests heaving from the effort. Then Kase purposefully let his eyes slowly roam from Kallus’s face downward, assessing his tight, strong body. When his eyes finally made their way back to Kallus’s face, Kallus _knew._ He had met his next playmate. 

*

They always met at Kallus’ convenience. As the higher ranking of the two men, it was easy for the Agent to set the terms of their engagements. They always met in Kallus’ personal cabin, there not being a lot of other options for privacy on an Imperial Starship. There was never a lot of talk when they met up. Occasionally they shared a bit of small talk about their current missions, never anything of importance, and never in any real detail. Captain Wilwerd was not a man of unnecessary words. His reputation was based on his actions rather than his eloquence. Captain Wilwerd was known as a cunning strategist, but to the troopers that served under him, he was referred to as Captain Hard-Ass. Ruthless and strict, but renowned for the results. 

Their visits usually consisted of a shared drink, and a bit of idle words, which quickly turned into roaming hands. Kallus would waste little time before his hands crept up the tight, standard issue grey undershirt, to feel the smooth, hard skin underneath. From there it wasn’t long until he was leading his playmate to the bunk while pulling off his clothes. Straddling the big man, Kallus would take control, tasting and touching, thrilling in the sensation of exploring the beautiful man’s body. 

One night, a few weeks into their arrangement, Kase changed how the game was played. When Kallus went to take position as top, Kase rolled Alexandr onto his back and pinned him down. Surprised, Kallus suddenly found himself fully hard and flushed with anticipation. Kase’s big strong hands encircled the blonde agent's wrists, pinning him to the bed. Kase’s large hands had no trouble manipulating Kallus’ wrists together with one hand. With the other, he abruptly pulled down his lover’s shorts. The sensation of being restrained along with the pressure of the larger man’s body pinning him to the bed sent an unexpected groan out of Kallus’s mouth. He immediately felt a wave of embarrassment about his transparent desire, but not for long. The groan had triggered a deep thrust from Kase’s hips and then an almost-growl as that sensual mouth closed on the fair skin of Kallus’ throat. Another groan escaped the Agent’s throat, but this time he was too distracted by how _good it all was_ \- he suddenly realized that _he liked this._ A lot. He bucked wantonly against his lover, begging for more. 

It was the beginning of a very agreeable arrangement between the two men.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallus just wants to feel something.

Kallus woke to the sound of the shower in his small refresher room. The bed had long since cooled, and the sheets felt damp and clammy. Still a bit muzzy from an interrupted sleep, he grabbed a handful of bed sheets and wiped as best he could at the dried body fluids that were stuck to his body. He found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and quickly pulled them on and began his fastidious routine of setting his chamber to rights. He could not tolerate having his space out of order for very long. He replaced the bed linens, wiped down the table and removed the brandy bottle and cups back to their cupboard after a quick washing out. The discarded clothing and sheets were placed down the laundry shoot. 

Captain Kase Wilwerd stepped out of the refresher fully dressed, neat and orderly. He surveyed the simple chamber without a word, no doubt noting that Agent Kallus had done what he predictably always did after their sessions. With a coy smile and brief nod, he saw himself out. 

Alexandr stared after the closed door for a long moment and then made his way to the shower. 

*

Steaming hot water ran down Alexandr Kallus’s back as he ran shampooed fingers through his slick hair, scrubbing at the follicles in a routine fashion. His hair was maybe one of the only parts of his body that wasn’t tender at the moment. His mouth felt bruised… Thankfully a quick inspection before he stepped into the shower revealed that no evidence of markings were present. They had a rule… neither man was permitted to leave visible marks anywhere on the body where it might be casually seen by their fellow soldiers. The rest of his body however, felt like he had just returned from battle. Soaping up his face and neck he felt bruises and bite marks along his collarbone. Kallus closed his eyes and ran a hand over the spot where Kase’s mouth had pressed down hard against his jugular, remembering the smell of his sweat and the feel of his hot mouth slowly adding more and more pressure. That warm, moist skin rubbing sensually over his own naked chest. Just remembering it was stirring things to life lower down… he ran soapy hands over his growing cock, slowly sliding a slippery hand up and down the shaft. And then, suddenly it was a different large male in his thoughts… one with exotic bright green eyes and striped purple fur. He wondered, would the fur be soft and velvety, or coarse and stiff to the touch? His current lover had an impressive physique, all taut muscle and thickness. But compared to the Lasat, Kase would look like a gangly teenager. How exciting would it be to run his hands over the formidable body of Garazeb Orrelios... _Pure brawn._ His mind flashed to the ice cave on Bahryn, watching the rebel climb the ice walls with those great big claws and strong muscular legs. The way his back muscles flexed as he climbed with singular determination… At the time Kallus remembered both being terrified of the situation, but fascinated by watching the Lasat’s body move. Garazeb could rip Kallus apart if he chose. The fear had made it all the more thrilling. _So unbelievably sexy…_ his fist slid faster over his rock hard cock, lost in the thoughts flooding his mind. Leaning against the wall of the shower, a small whimper escaped his lips. Alexandr Kallus’s eyes shot open. Oh no no no no no. Why? Of all the places his traitorous mind could go to, why go there? 

***

After he was clean and dry from the shower he inspected his spartan living chamber. Everything was back as it should be. 

Well, almost everything.

From a drawer under his single bunk, Kallus reached for the cheery, golden chunk of meteorite that he had put out of sight before Kase arrived. He always hid away his precious glowing stone before anyone entered his chamber. Best to avoid any questions or prying into his personal affairs. He allowed himself to hold his precious token as he stretched out on his now clean and orderly bunk. He turned it over in his hands, absently; It still glowed a golden amber light and emitted a gentle warmth, although both its light and warmth were beginning to fade. Lying there in his quiet room, he considered his state of being. 

He expected to feel realigned, as he normally did after a good fuck. He was more relaxed, if a little sore. Sessions with Kase were not overly gentle at a rule. Not since Kallus realized how invigorating it was to be dominated in the bedroom. The feeling of being enveloped by the larger man made him feel calm somehow. He didn’t know why, but giving Kase the control over him for a little while was revitalising. After all, he still was the one in control. But this last session had been, for lack of a better word, brutal. He had bruises all over his thighs and arms from where Kase had held him down. Kallus had all but forced him to put them there by aggressively matching his physical strength against the bigger man during foreplay. Kallus liked being dominated in the bedroom, but something in his pride made him demand that his playmate _earn_ his position as top. The aggressive foreplay was something he knew Kase enjoyed as much as he did. The normally taciturn Kase would get a little mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when Kallus started their session by throwing the larger man up against the wall, forcing Kase to react. Kallus was well acquainted with the deep, throaty chuckle that Kase reserved for times when his lover was being extra playful. From there the two men would wrestle each other, trying to pin the other down all the while attempting to pull off a piece of the opponents clothing while they tussled around. Kallus would finally submit when they were both undressed and sweaty from the effort. Then he would let his lover put his hands anywhere he wanted… let him push him down, hold him submissive and enter his body. 

Kase had been gentle enough at the start of the penetration. The forplay was borderline violent, but the sex was meant to be pleasurable, not painful. Kase started off slow and sensual, easing his partner into it…. letting the pressure build. Kallus drove his thumb hard into Kase’s thigh and ground his hips into his lover, urging the larger man to give him more. The sensation was exquisite as Kase began to drive his cock home, building up the tempo as one great big hand held Kallus’s cock, the other had his wrists securely held up above his head. It had been so good, the pressure of Kase’s weight above him, the feel of fullness and pressure hitting all the right spots… and then it hurt. Kallus thrust more violently against his lover. _More._ And then it really hurt, but he never told the Captain to stop. He demanded that Kase _go harder;_ he ground his hips against the bigger man, harder and harder, urging Captain Wilwerd to fuck him into oblivion until he turned his face away to hide the tears that streamed down his cheeks. 

_What had made me demand such abuse?_

Predictably, Captain Wilwerd had seen himself out once he had washed up. For all the physical intimacy they shared when they were together, there was never more than that. Kase never stuck around to talk or cuddle. Kallus would have found that unsettling from the taciturn lover… it just wasn’t what they shared together. Alexandr did not want that from this man. There were no deeper feelings there between them. This wasn’t someone you laid awake with and shared your deepest thoughts with. 

Alexandr now lay in his bunk, hurting and somewhat ashamed of the whole night. Why did he demand that things become so rough? He just wanted to _feel_ something real. Something that would slam him back into his old self. Something to make all the new feelings _go away._

Now he just lay there, wishing there was at least one person on this stinking ship that he could talk to. A hot lump in the back of his throat let him know that he was on the verge of tears… _again._ He took a deep breath in to centre himself and released it as a shuddering sigh.

Honestly, Alexandr didn’t have anyone he was comfortable to share deep thoughts and feelings with. Sure, he had comrades on the ship, people to share a drink with… a few laughs. But these were work acquaintances. There was never anything more than surface level interactions.

The loneliness he was feeling sent his traitorous mind to contrast his experience with what he saw from the rebels when they retrieved their lost comrade. It had been so obvious how happy and relieved they were to have him back. The laughter, gentle touches and immediate questions about how he was doing. From his hiding spot against the ice wall, he didn’t just witness familiar friends who were happy to see one another… he saw a family. Seeing that closeness had done something to him that day.

No one cared about him like that. If it wasn’t for the freighter that chanced to pass by, Kallus would have died on that icy rock, and for what? What had all his work - his devotion to the Empire given him in the end? They didn’t even care what happened to him, and it was as if they didn’t even care that he was returned to them either. 

He was missing for a total of three days. 

When he was returned back to his command late on the third day, the only acknowledgement that something had happened to him came in the form of an order. An order that he produce a report concerning the hours he was away from his post.

He had lied.

He didn’t even need to think about it when he did. He lied about how the crash occurred, why he had been injured, and why he had doctored the transponder to broadcast on an open channel. He said nothing of the rebels, or how Orrelios was the reason he survived. With a sudden heartfelt passion, he needed to protect the rebels. Not because he suddenly believed in their cause - he didn’t. But because… well because they were a family, and he owed it to them since one of their own had saved wretched life. It has sparked something inside himself… something he wasn’t quite sure about yet. It was as though they had so much hope and strength inside of themselves that just being near one of their own it had spread over to Kallus. That small ray of light found a chink in his armour and broke through.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kallus discovers Vulnerability.

In his dream he was freezing to the bone, shaking so hard that the muscles in his back hurt from being tensed up for too long. He was pressed shoulder to shoulder with his enemy, but his enemy was helping him conserve his own body heat by sharing some of his own. It was so cold, even with the glowing rock nestled in his lap. His leg throbbed with pain, the chill adding to the numbing, bone aching pain. In his dream he saw himself explaining to the enemy why he should wrap himself around Alexandr and hold him close. In his dream, the enormous male Lasat agreed that this was the best plan, and those great, strong arms encircled his smaller body. Alexandr leaned back into its warmth. 

_It could always be this way, you know._ Dream-Zeb said gently into his ear. _We could use someone of your skills… my people would accept you._

In his dream the pain went away at that moment. He was warm and safe and protected. His leg didn’t hurt. He was intimately aware of every spot that Zeb’s large body touched against his back. He leaned back into the warmth, wriggling contentedly into the embrace. They weren’t enemies at all, dream-Alexandr suddenly realized. They were soldiers together… no… they were more than that... In his dream, Zeb purred a deep languid sound into his ear, his hot breath tickling Alexandr’s neck. 

_I’ll tell them. I’ll tell them how you had a change of heart and saved my life. I’ll tell them you are an honorable man and that you deserve a chance to prove yourself. You don’t need to be alone anymore._

This time in the dream, Alexandr turned in the big Lasat’s arms and said _I do want that… I want…_ and then dream-Alexandr nuzzled into the Lasat’s neck and breathed in his musky scent. He brushed his face against dream-Zeb’s furry cheek. Pulling back and looking into the eyes of the big Lasat, he heard himself saying _Zeb, I am so sorry for everything I put your people through. I am so -_ before he could finish, his mouth was pressed into a deep kiss that was returned with just as much passion. 

Holding Alexandr’s face between his big paw-like hands, dream-Zeb looked compassionately into his eyes, deep enough to touch his soul. _Just admit it Kallus, you want this as much as I do._

Kallus woke up. 

He was shaking and cold. It wasn’t cold in the cabin. It was always the right temperature inside his cabin. The cold was in the pit of his stomach. An emptiness was there. He felt the lingering ghostly sensation of large warm arms around him, and subconsciously wrapped his arms around the place they had been. He almost sensed the lingering musky scent of the mysterious male that was haunting his dreams. 

Of course that had just been a dream. 

He had versions of this dream on and off for weeks now. Over and over again. Sometimes the dream was frightening. Sometimes when he leaned into the warmth of dream-Zeb, the Lasat sneered and threw him harshly into the cold snow. Sometimes dream-Zeb simply wasn’t there, just vanished and it was just Alexandr freezing against the biting winds alone in the dark. But as the dream continued to come, dream-Alexandr got closer and closer to his…enemy/friend. In a way it was as though his subconscious was reaching out to Zeb. _Desperate for some connection._

He scoffed at his own ridiculousness. 

But Kallus couldn’t leave the thoughts alone. Why did he keep dreaming of Orrelios? Thirsting after him as though he was the only cool glass of water in a sea of sand? The attraction was there, yes. After so many days and nights thinking back to his time on Bahryn, Kallus finally had to admit that he did have lusty feelings about Garazeb Orrelios. Well, how could he not? I mean, he was a formidable warrior and one hell of a physical specimen. With all his previous experience with the species, Kallus was intimately familiar with how physical they were as a rule. Garazeb Orrelios was an exceptionally beautiful and powerful male of his species. Alexandr _really liked_ large, powerful males. 

Thinking of the Lasat people, even briefly, compressed something in his chest. He wondered if perhaps it was nothing more than the remembered feelings of guilt that had him circling back to thoughts of Zeb. From the very beginning of Kallus’ conflict with the Rebels there had been tension between himself and the Lasat. The tension turning into a sort of _obsession_ that Kallus didn’t think was all just one-way. 

Was it possible that Zeb also felt some sort of connection? 

Of course, that was absurd. All of this _pining_ was absurd. It would pass with time. This fanciful dream was likely brought on by his recent sexual dalancies with Kase. 

No, what the ghostly memories of the dream had imprinted on him more than anything was the feeling of safety. Tenderness. Vulnerability. It was as though whenever he went to sleep now, Zeb was there, holding him close, _seeing him._

Those 20 hours nearly freezing to death, nearly being eaten by _terrifying_ bonzami, _struggling_ to survive with someone that should hate him more than anyone had been life altering for one reason, and one reason only. 

Hope.

When they had crash-landed and were still sizing each other up, Kallus had sneered and played the aloof and untouchable ISB agent. He was Agent Kallus: _Intelligent. Powerful. Dominant. Untouchable._ This attitude had not played well with the rebel. It was almost as though Zeb had taken one look at him, raised a brow-ridge and said “I’m not buying what you are selling, so just cut the crap already”.

Oh yes… Zeb had immediately seen the weakness in Kallus and used it to mock him. _Kallus had no hope in him!_ Oh, how hilarious it was that the proud Agent of the most powerful force in the galaxy didn’t even _believe_ he would be rescued! Oh sure, Kallus _pretended_ the bravado that the Empire would get there first - and oh boy oh boy, wasn’t Garazeb going to be in trouble when THAT happened. But Zeb was no idiot. He knew that his people would never stop until they retrieved him. What a fool Kallus was to underestimate Zeb’s family! 

The Lasat warrior never stopped believing his family was coming for him. Hope positively burned in him. Knowing he was _loved_ and _wanted_ by his people burned so brightly… It gave him unparalleled strength and determination - and THAT was the reason both of them would live.

This… this fellow warrior, who had seen his share of tragedy and loss and had chosen not closed himself off to the world. _Like Kallus had._ Zeb was genuine. Honest and forthright. He hadn’t written off Kallus for the Imperial enemy that he knew he was. He judged him by the man that he somehow knew he _could_ be. Somehow Zeb had extended an invitation to the person _underneath_ all the layers, and before Kallus even knew what he was doing, he found that he was reaching to that outstretched hand in return. What followed had shocked and scared Kallus. He confessed that he never meant all those ridiculous, cruel brags that he had said about Lasan. Kallus wanted Zeb to know that he respected him as a fellow warrior. He wanted Zeb to know that he appreciated that he would have died without the help. For the first time in a long time, it had _mattered_ to Kallus that someone saw there was a person under the Imperial uniform. 

It had started as a grudging respect for the rebel.   
Then as they talked together, it grew into: _We are not so different, you and I._   
Then, the realization: _We are not the same at all, are we? You have strength I couldn't hope to possess. Your hope gives you strength._  
And then the intelligent, powerful, dominant and untouchable ISB Agent despaired.  
He had none of that inside him.  
In that moment, the ISB Agent had been defeated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate steps in.

A year ago, if someone had said that Kallus would soon be jealous of the rebels, he would have scoffed and told that person they were out of their mind on _Spice._ But now ISB Agent Alexandr Kallus was actively consuming any and all information that would be vital for the Rebels to know. He didn’t know yet how he would use this information to his advantage, but he took it all in regardless. Despite the fact that he knew he was risking his life, Kallus felt invigorated by the espionage. 

The more he actually tuned in to what the Empire was up to, the more ill he felt, knowing he had been complacent in helping them achieve atrocities all these years.  
And the more he purposefully learned, the more helpless he felt.  
The helplessness was forged into something more productive: indignant anger.  
That hot anger created the final product: cool resolve.

He would do better. Be better.

****  
Kallus had his orders. Rumours of a new rebel cell had been reported in the far off outpost colloquially known as “Jhothal”. A squadron of troopers was assigned to Agent Kallus to investigate these rumours. They would be taking a land freighter cross country to the isolated outpost. THis would give the ground team a small element of surprise that would give them the edge needed to snuff out the new rebel cell. 

Agent Kallus internally scoffed at the notion that any movement the Empire made on Lothal could be considered “stealthy”. It would be far more advantageous to disguise a trusted officer as a local, and get them to find intel in person rather than the arrogant display they were executing.

_Good, let this mission fail. I’ll learn more about the rebels, the cell will know that the Empire is on to them, and they will have a chance to reconsider this as a base._

Arriving at the outpost, Agent Kallus gave strict instructions that no person was to be harmed unless they started violence. He set two pairs of troopers to walk the streets and another pair to watch the door of the cantina. A group of three troopers were left with the transport.

Agent Kallus and the remaining troopers entered _Old Jho’s Pit Stop._ The pleasant atmosphere of folk imbibing and relaxing after a day's work abruptly went silent. He instructed the squadron to begin interrogating the patrons. 

Taking a central position in the cantina, Kallus spoke loudly. “Citizens. You have been given a rare opportunity to do some good for your Empire. If any here has information of a cell of rebel terrorists that may be sheltering in this outpost, speak now.” 

As expected, this was met with silence. 

“I understand that some of you might be afraid to speak up. Afraid that the terrorists will bring harm to you. Know that you will be rewarded with -” 

_“Agent Kallus”_ A honey-sweet female voice interrupted his monolog. 

Spinning around, Agent Kallus saw a petite Togruta standing in the doorway to a back room. 

Oh no. was his thought, but managed to sneer the words “Ahsoka Tano” before the scene abruptly changed from one of interrogation to that of sheer panic. 

Kallus reached for his blaster - too late. He saw her raise an arm to signal the hidden team of rebels that immediately disarmed and stunned the surprised troopers. He had half a second to register that the rebels that had just disarmed his goon squad were not _Spectres._ That was something at least. 

A few grunts and blasts from out the cantina door let Kallus know that his door patrol was also down for the count. 

A moment of absolute silence.

Then chaos ensued. 

Kallus barely had time to raise his bo-rifle in defence before the rebel Ahsoka was upon him. In a sweeping roll of motion he deflected her attack, sending her rebounding into a wall, which she managed to kick off of and bounce back towards him, giving him less than a second to jump out of the way. 

Patrons of all species were fleeing, attacking the remaining conscious troopers and looting items off of the fallen soldiers. Tables, chairs and glassware suddenly became airborne. 

Dodging, ducking and deflecting, Kallus backed his way towards the door. Tano’s pursuit was ruthless. She was fast and strong, but so was her opponent. In a moment of pure good fortune, a chair came out of nowhere and struck Ahsoka from behind, giving Kallus a moment's respite from the onslaught. In a last-ditch effort to escape, Kallus grabbed a small townsperson and, mumbling a half-coherent apology, _threw him_ at the momentarily off-balance Tano. He turned and ran. 

Outside, a sand storm was picking up, making visibility next to impossible. Stumbling over the prone bodies of two troopers, Agent Kallus managed to make it to an alley two doors from the cantina. Catching his breath through the dust and debris he attempted to reach any of his troopers on the comms. Nothing. Out of nowhere, Tano dropped down in front of him, grabbed the front of his uniform, and tossed him through an open door. 

He landed hard on his back, and as the wind was knocked out of him, Ahsoka was upon him. Quick as a reptile she snatched his comm and blaster and disappeared back into the shadows. He wheezed out a harsh dusty cough. Scrambling backwards on the stone floor, he struggled to adjust to the abruptly dark room. He became aware that his adversary was blocking the escape route. This was going from bad to worse. 

“Get up.” Ahsoka Tano ordered. 

“I’m quite comfortable down here actually. Less things to land on when you inevitably hit me again.” Kallus responded, cursing himself for the idiotic retort. Now was not the time for witty responses.

Kallus was expecting more than the silence that followed. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he saw Ahsoka Tano staring intensely into his eyes. Her bright blue eyes narrowed slightly as though she was trying to spot a small object too far away for detail. 

“Get up, Agent Kallus.” This time more gently. 

Curious, Kallus slowly slid his way up to a sitting position, never taking his eyes off of her. She stood patiently, watching him. Eventually she grew tired of his reluctance and rolled her eyes and gestured to a chair. 

Quickly glancing where she indicated, Kallus started to rise, every ache and pain firing to life as he did so. 

“Something has changed.” Tano stated. 

“Is that so?” He wasn’t going to say any more than he needed to. 

“I sense turmoil inside you.” 

Kallus didn’t say anything. He lowered himself into the chair she had indicated. He rolled his tongue around inside his cheek, tasting blood. His left eye was watering. He wondered if it would bruise. He was just about to sarcastically inform her that he was cornered and weaponless - of course there was _turmoil_ inside him. 

“You could have killed me back there in the cantina.” She said finally. 

This made Kallus scoff sincerely. “Forgive me for saying so, but I believe you are wholly overestimating my abilities against a Jedi.” 

She cocked her head slightly and smirked. She didn’t bother correcting him about the Jedi comment. “You had a chance to take a shot, and you did not.” 

“What use is a dead informant to the Empire, Ms. Tano?” Kallus retorted in his best insufferable ISB agent voice. So far this exchange wasn’t leading to more physical violence, so Kallus retreated back into his confident, untouchable ISB officer routine. 

Ignoring him, she continued to muse aloud. “No, Agent Kallus. I do not believe that you do things without considering them thoroughly first.” 

She paused, staring him down. Waiting to see if he would respond. 

“Furthermore, talk amongst the folk of Lothal suggests that _The Lawbringer_ has had fewer wins as of late. Also, our success rate slipping past the blockades has increased.”

Another pregnant pause. 

“Bully for you.” Kallus was beginning to tire of this charade and wondered where this was going. Was he being captured? Was she going to interrogate him with her Jedi mind powers? He hoped not. There was plenty in his mind he would just as soon take to the grave. 

“A member of the rebel cell known as _The Spectres_ mentioned a strange encounter with you, Agent Kallus.” 

At that moment, his heart leapt into his throat. Suddenly his hands felt clammy and his mouth went dry. His back felt damp with sweat.

“Aaahhh.” The tone suggested that a long suspected hypothesis was being proven correct. The rebel former Jedi smiled and leaned it. 

Kallus couldn’t abide the look in her eyes. He turned away submissively, realized what he was doing, and stared back at her, chin raised defiantly. 

“ _Garazeb Orrelios_ had suggested that there may be more to you than we give you credit for.”

At the mention of Zeb, Alexandr’s eyes widened and the breath stuck in his dry throat.

_Zeb._

_Stars above, when had he become such an open book?_ He tried to master his expression back to neutral but knew that it was already too late. The petite Togruta had been trained as a Jedi and there had always been little hope that she wouldn’t see right through him. 

She smiled indulgently at him. “Flustered are we, Agent Kallus?”

“I am not flustered, Ms. Tano.”

“Of course not.” 

He sighed, resigned.

“What is it that you think you know, Ms. Tano?” 

*

Twenty minutes later Agent Alexandr Kallus was running as fast as he could through the blinding and stinging sand storm as shots fired over his shoulder. He had secured a connection with the troopers that were left to guard the ground transport. At the first sign of violence they had evacuated the area to a safe distance and were now circling back to collect their commander. 

For good measure he shot a few rounds off over his shoulder as he ran. Diving head first into the open door of the transport he shouted “Go! Go!” In an instant, they were gone. 

***

Later, in the debrief, Agent Kallus confessed that the whole operation had been a set-up by the rebel terrorists at Jhothal. He had barely escaped with his life, the ground support troopers all having been captured. If it wasn’t for the sand storm to cover his retreat, Kallus would have been captured as well. Yes, he did think that more rebel cells were being established. No, he didn’t think the rebel cell was actually active at the _Jhothal_ outpost. Yes, he did think that _Jho’s Pit Stop_ was complacent with the rebels.

The lies had come easily to his lips. A little truth, a little lies… mix them together and even Kallus himself was having a hard time distinguishing what was real and what was fake. It was like reciting poetry, the way the excuses rolled off his tongue. His appearance made the story more believable. A limping, bruised Agent Kallus stood as straight and tall as he could while giving his report to the holocom. 

On his way back to his private cabin the adrenaline that had surged through his system during the debrief was ebbing away. His healed, but not wholly restored leg gave a bone-deep ache as he limped his way down the corridor. It was lucky that he wasn’t reporting directly to a force-user. He would need to get better at hiding the truth. 

****

A few weeks later

The tower on the horizon was quickly growing to it’s impressive height as the sky dimmed to the grey-green hue of twilight. Agent Alexandr Kallus urged the speeder bike on faster towards his target. 

He had taken the necessary precautions and ensured he had the time needed to slip away. This had been planned and rehearsed move-by-move in his head for more than a week. He waited for the perfect moment to execute the plan. 

Still, his palms were sweaty and tingly, and he felt a shakiness through his whole body as he considered everything. 

The position of power.  
The prestige.  
The hard one control he had taken for himself.  
The job security.  
The precarious safety of the dominant side.  
The closest thing to a home he had.  
Everything. 

Parking the bike outside of LothalNet comm tower E-272, he entered the turbolift and made his ascent. 

ISB Agent Alexandr Kallus. Top of his class. Warrior. Champion of many battles. 

It might all be for nothing.  
He might be tortured.  
He might be killed if he was found out.

Alexandr found that he didn’t care.  
Better to die for a reason than live an empty and meaningless life for no one.  
Better to die for _him._  
The only one who cared enough to take a chance on his miserable soul. 

Taking the controls and setting the dials, Alexandr Kallus took a deep breath to centre himself. 

This was it. 

_“This is Fulcrum.”_

****

The End/ The Beginning 


End file.
